A BIRTHDAY
"Can you skate, Cousin Faith?" asked Donald, on their way to school
one morning in late December. There had been a week of very cold
weather, and the ice of the lake glittered temptingly in the morning
sun.
"No, I never had any skates, and there wasn't a very good chance for
skating at home," answered Faith regretfully; for many of the school
children were eager for the sport, and told her of their good times on
the ice.
"Mother has a pair of skates for you; I heard her say so; and father
is going to teach you to skate," responded Donald. "I can skate," he
added, "and after you learn we'll have a fine time. Nat Beaman comes
across the lake on the ice in no time."
It was rather difficult for Faith to pay attention to her studies that
day. She wondered when Aunt Prissy would give her the skates, and
Uncle Phil teach her how to use them. And when the schoolmaster
announced that there would be no school for the remainder of the week
Faith felt that everything was planned just right for her. Now, she
thought, she could begin the very next day, if only the cold, clear
weather would continue.
The sun set clear and red that night, and the stars shone brightly.
Faith was sure the next day would be pleasant. Donald found a chance
to tell Faith that the skates were a "secret." "But I didn't know it
until just a few minutes ago," he explained, adding briefly: "I hate
secrets."
Faith agreed heartily. If the skates were a secret who could tell when
Aunt Prissy would give them to her? She went to bed a little
despondent, thinking to herself that as soon as she was clear of one
secret another seemed ready to interfere with her happiness. But she
was soon asleep, and woke up to find the sun shining in at her
windows, and Aunt Prissy starting the fire with a shovelful of coals
from the kitchen hearth. And what were those shining silver-like
objects swinging from the bed-post?
"Skates! My skates!" she exclaimed, sitting up in bed. "Oh, Aunt
Prissy! I did want them so to-day."
"They are your birthday present from your father and mother," said
Aunt Prissy, coming to the side of the bed, and leaning over to kiss
her little niece. "Eleven years old to-day! And you had forgotten all
about it!"
"Why, so I am! Why, so I did!" said Faith. "Well, I like secrets that
end this way. May I go skating right away, Aunt Prissy?"
"Breakfast first!" laughed Aunt Prissy, and was out of the room before
Faith had noticed that lying across the foot of her bed was a dress of
pretty plaided blue and brown wool. A slip of paper was pinned to it:
"For Faith to wear skating," she read.
"Lovely! Lovely!" exclaimed Faith, as she hastened to dress in front
of the blazing fire.
"Why, here are new stockings, too," she said, as she discovered a pair
of warm knit brown and blue stockings.
She came running into the dining-room, skates in hand, to be met by
her uncle and little cousins with birthday greetings. Donald had at
last finished the bow and arrows that he had promised her weeks
before, and now gave them to her; Hugh had made a "quiver," a little
case to hold the arrows, such as the Indians use, of birch bark, and
little Philip had a dish filled with molasses candy, which he had
helped to make.
It was a beautiful morning for Faith, and the broiled chicken and hot
corn cake gave the breakfast an added sense of festivity.
Soon after breakfast Mr. Scott, Donald and Faith were ready to start
for the lake. Donald took his sled along. "So we can draw Cousin Faith
home, if she gets tired," he explained, with quite an air of being
older and stronger than his cousin.
Aunt Prissy watched them start off, thinking to herself that Faith had
never looked so pretty as she did in the fur coat and cap, with her
skates swinging from her arm, the bright steel catching the rays of
sunlight.
They crossed the road, and went down the field to the shore. The hard
crust gave Faith and Donald a fine coast down the slope, and both the
children exclaimed with delight when Mr. Scott, running and sliding,
reached the shore almost as soon as they did.
Mr. Scott fastened on Faith's skates, and held up by her uncle on one
side and Donald on the other, Faith ventured out on the dark, shining
ice. After a few lurches and tumbles, she found that she could stand
alone, and in a short time could skate a little.
"Father, are those Indians?" asked Donald, pointing to a number of
dark figures coming swiftly down the lake from the direction of the
fort.
Mr. Scott looked, and answered quickly: "Yes. They have seen us; so we
will skate toward them. They will probably be friendly." But he told
Faith to sit down on the sled, and took fast hold of Donald's hand. In
a few moments the flying figures of the Indians were close at hand.
There were six of them, young braves, and evidently racing either for
sport, or bound on some errand of importance, for they sped straight
past the little group, with a friendly call of salutation.
"I wonder what that means," said Mr. Scott, turning to watch them. "It
may be they are on their way to Albany as messengers from the fort,"
he added, as if speaking to himself.
"What kind of a message, Uncle Philip?" asked Faith.
"Heaven knows, child. Perhaps for troops enough to crush the American
settlers, and drive them from their homes," replied Mr. Scott. For
news of the trouble in Boston, the blockade of the port, and the lack
of supplies, had reached the men of the Wilderness; and Mr. Scott knew
that the English were planning to send a larger body of troops to Fort
Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and the sight of these speeding Indians
made him wonder if they might not be English messengers.
"Couldn't we stop them, uncle?" asked Faith, so earnestly that her
uncle looked down at her in smiling surprise.
"Couldn't we? It will be dreadful to leave our homes," said Faith.
Mr. Scott swung the little girl gently around. "Look!" he said,
pointing down the lake. Already the Indians were but dark specks in
the distance. "If trouble comes there are brave Americans ready," he
said; "and now we had best be going toward home, or you will be too
tired to come out this afternoon."
Faith and Donald were surprised to find that it was dinner time. They
had a great deal to tell Aunt Prissy of their morning's adventures.
"Could a little girl do anything to help, Aunt Prissy, if the English
do try to drive us away?" Faith asked, as she helped her aunt clear
the dining-room table.
"Who knows?" responded Mrs. Scott, cheerfully. "A brave girl might be
of great service. But I do not believe the Tories will dare go much
farther. At all events, we will be ready for them. Run to the door,
Faithie; there comes Louise."
Louise was as pleased over Faith's presents as Faith herself, and
delighted at the prospect of going to the lake with Faith and Donald
that afternoon. Faith and Donald promised to draw her on the sled, and
Aunt Prissy was to be their companion.
"Mother can skate like a bird," Donald declared admiringly.
Louise was no longer the sullen, sad-faced child whom Faith had first
seen. She knew that she had friends; she was included in all the
pleasant happenings with Faith; her father seemed to take pride in her
appearance; and best of all, she thought, she was to begin school when
the spring term opened. To-day as they started off for the lake she
was as full of happiness as any child could be.
There were a number of children and young people on the ice, skating
and sliding. A number of boys had built a bonfire on the shore, where
they could warm their chilled toes and fingers.
Nathan Beaman was there, circling about in skilful curves, or darting
off with long swift strokes, greatly to the admiration of the other
children. He was quite ready to take the sled rope and give Louise a
fine ride up the lake toward the fort, and back to the fire, and to
guide Faith in her clumsy efforts to skate.
Faith and Louise were warming their fingers at the fire when they
heard loud voices and a commotion on the ice.
"What is it? Indians?" exclaimed Faith, looking around, for the
settlers never knew at what moment the Indians might become
mischievous.
"No! Soldiers. Soldiers from the fort," replied Aunt Prissy, drawing
the little girls away from the fire. "Perhaps they are only coming to
warm their fingers."
Two red-coated soldiers came swinging close to the shore. They were
talking loudly, and as they neared the fire they called out: "Clear
away from that fire. We'll have no fires built on this shore. 'Tis
too good a way to send messages across the lake."
With a couple of stout sticks they beat out the flame, kicking snow
over the coals, and extinguishing the last bit of fire.
Mrs. Scott had helped Louise toward the ice, but Faith had lingered a
moment. As one of the soldiers turned from the fire he found himself
facing a little fur-clad figure with flushed cheeks and angry eyes.
"That was our fire. You had no business to put it out," Faith
declared.
"Oh, ho! What's this?" laughed the soldier. "Do you own this lake? Or
perhaps you are our new captain?"
"It is a mean thing to spoil our fire," continued Faith; "we wouldn't
do you any harm."
"I'm not so sure about that," replied the soldier. "You have a pretty
fierce expression," and with another kick at the fire, and a
"good-bye, little rebel," to Faith, the two soldiers started back to
the fort. The skaters now, troubled and angry by the unfriendly
interference, were taking off their skates and starting for home.
"I wish American soldiers were in that fort," said Nat Beaman.
"Why don't you ask Colonel Allen to come and take it?" asked Faith
earnestly; she was quite sure that Ethan Allen could do anything he
attempted.
"Ask him yourself," responded Nathan laughingly.
"I guess I will," Faith thought to herself, as she followed Aunt
Prissy up the field toward home. "Perhaps that would be doing
something to help Americans."
The more Faith thought about this the stronger became her resolve to
ask Colonel Allen to take possession of Fort Ticonderoga. She was so
silent all the way home that her companions were sure she was
overtired. Louise had to return to her own home, and soon after supper
Faith was ready to go to bed.
"I've got a real secret now; even if I don't like secrets," she
thought to herself. For she realized that she could not tell any one
of her determination to find some way to ask Ethan Allen to capture
Ticonderoga and send the troublesome English soldiers back to their
own homes.